Sadie dabbed at Harry's forehead with a damp cloth as he tried to find a cool spot on his pillow. He had just woken from a nightmare and thrown up anything he had left, and now he was putting up a fight against his exhaustion.

"'m hot, Sadie." He moaned. "Help me. Help me, Sadie, help me."

Harry groaned, holding his stomach, and tears starting slipping down his flushed cheeks.

"Don't cry, Harry, I'm right here."

"Don't wanna sleep again," he moaned. "I always dream when I'm sick, bad dreams, memories."

"You're exhausted, Harry." Sadie placed a hand on his shoulder. "You need to sleep."

"Help me, Sadie, I feel really bad." He looked at her with watering eyes. "Please, baby, help me? Help me. . ."

Sadie pressed a kiss to his forehead and started stroking his sweaty hair. "Wasn't I here when you woke up?"

"Mm-hmm." He nodded weakly.

"And didn't I help you calm down?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Well close your eyes, and know that when you wake up again, I'll still be here."

"What if I throw up again?" He croaked. "I don't like it, makes my body hurt."

"I know," Sadie sighed. "But if you do, I'm right here to help you."

"H-has H-Hayden come in at a-all?"

"Twice. You were sleeping, but he talked a bit. He's worried."

"T-tell him n-n-not to b-be." Harry smiled weakly. "I've been sick before, I'm always okay."

Sadie knocked her knuckles on the wooden headboard. "Don't jinx it."

"You're f-funny, M-Muffin. I l-love that."

"Get some sleep, ba--Buttercup." Sadie smiled softly, seeing Harry's eyes close. She started humming, hoping he would doze off quicker. Soon soft snores emitted from his mouth and nose.

Harry woke up three times that night to be sick, going right back a restless sleep. It was one in the morning now, and Sadie decided that if she was going to be any help at all, she'd have to sleep herseld, so she crawled into the bed next to him, turning away so she didn't breathe in his germs.

She fell asleep quickly, and into a rather nice dream about a certain brown eyed boy and a bouquet of roses.

Harry, however, was still restless, in the lightest sleep possible, and his dreams only darkened the deeper his sleep went.

"Mommy, mommy!" Harry shrieked as he ran into the kitchen carrying a Nerf gun. "Mo--"

He broke off as his tiny frame ran smack into his mother by the table.

"Hi, sweetie." Mrs. Peterson laughed, running a hand through his hair.

Harry looked up and grinned, wrapping his arms around her legs. "Hi mommy!"

"What's got you so excited?" She laughed.

"What? Oh! Jordan's chasing me but I'm out of bullets." He said, having momentarily forgotten why he went to bother his mother in the first place. "I kept hitting him, doesn't that mean I win?"

Jordan came in from the backyard then, proudly clutching the foam bullets and promptly bouncing several off Harry's body.

"Jordan, stop it!" Harry whined. "I don't want to play anymore."

"Baby,"

"I am not a baby!" Harry protested.

"Harry?" Hayden called hoarsely from the living room. "Harry, where are you?"

Harry sniffled and buried his head in his mother's legs. "Jordan's being mean, mommy, tell him to stop."

"I'm only playing!" Jordan protested, aiming the toy at Harry and hitting him with two more foam bullets.

Harry didn't like this one bit, and he was tired and annoyed and his tummy had started hurting, and this was all too much for his little body and he started crying, forgetting all about his Nerf toy and dropping it to the ground with a clatter.

"Harry?" Hayden asked, coming in clutching his blanket and rubbing his eyes with his fists. His body was covered in spots now, and it made Mrs. Peterson sad. "Harry, why are you crying?"

"I--Jordan--my--no like it--Hayde--wan' mama--huggies."

Hayden came over and gave his brother a hug, then turned and gave his older brother a weak punch at the hip.

"What was that for?" Jordan demanded as Harry turned back to his mother.

"Making Harry cry," Hayden pouted.

Jordan started arguing with him, but Hayden froze and then ran out of the room yelling for daddy.

"Harry, baby, what's wrong?" Mrs. Peterson asked, wanting to pick him up to comfort him but not able to detach his hands from her legs.

"Mommy," Harry hiccuped, wiping his nose on her jeans. "Mommy,"

"Dear, I can't help if I don't know what's wrong." She cooed, wanting to help her son but not knowing how to. "Jordan, why don't you go see if Hayden's alright?"

Jordan grumbled but left the room, and Mrs. Peterson pried her son's hands away so she could sit down and meet his eyes.

"Now, how about you tell me what this is all about, hmm?" She suggested gently, running a hand over his back.

Harry squirmed out of the touch and moved her hand to his hair. "I like when you play with my hair. Don't touch my back."

Mrs. Peterson frowned, but nodded and stroked his hair. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

Harry looked down at the ground. "You busy with Hayde, though."

"That's alright, what is it?"

Harry looked up as new tears sprang to his eyes. "I don't feel good, mommy."

"Oh? What's the matter?"

"My tummy hurts, mommy." Harry's lower lip quivered. "And my head feels funny."

"Oh dear. . ."

"I don't know why!" Harry exclaimed, holding his arms out and looking confused. "I was fine earlier."

Mrs. Peterson remembered how tired he had been that morning and how little he had eaten, and thought about Hayden's chicken pox. "Can I lift your shirt up?"

Harry pulled his shirt up to a reveal his now spotted stomach.

"You've got the chicken pox, too." Mrs. Peterson said sadly. "Looks like you and Hayden will be having a lot of snuggle time today."

"M-mommy?" Harry said nervously. "My tummy is angry."

Mrs. Peterson scooped him up and brought him to the downstairs bathroom just as he started to gag.

"D-don't like it mommy!" He wailed.

"Mom?" Jordan called from the living room. "Hayden's just thrown up again, dad said to tell you."

Jordan appeared in the doorway just as Harry threw up and started crying loudly.

"Jordy, it hurts!" Harry coughed before throwing up again. "Take it away, I don't like it!"

Jordan winced and started to rub his brother's neck, hand at the waist. "This is how you keep him calm, mom, makes him feel steady."

Harry finished throwing up and turned into his brother, sniffling pitifully. "My belly hurts, Jordy."

"You gonna be sick again?"

"No, it just hurts."

Jordan lifted his brother's shirt and rubbed in little circles. "That help?"

Harry nodded and sniffled again, burying himself deeper. "Wan' go sleep."

"Alright, kiddo, let's get you to the couch, yeah? We've got Hoppers there, and warm blankets. Are you cold?"

Harry nodded despite the beads of sweat on his forehead. "Wan' Hayde, Jordy. Wan' watch Dumbo."

Jordan picked his little brother up and walked out to the living room, closely followed by Mrs. Peterson, who was in awe that a kid his age and size could carry a toddler on his own.

Mr. Peterson looked up from the couch as they entered, where he was sitting comforting a half-sleeping, somewhat crying Hayden.

"He threw up again," he told them. "Poor kid's got it bad, his stomach is really upset."

"Harry just threw up, too." Jordan informed him, setting Harry down.

Hayden sat up groggily and stretched his arms out. "Harry, come here. Wan' you, Harry."

Harry crawled across the couch and laid down half on top of his twin, head on his chest. "I feel icky, Hayde. I very tired. Belly hurts."

"Me too, Harrybo, and I'm itchy."

"Me too," Harry said, scratching his chest for good measure.

"Don't scratch, Harrybo, it not good. Daddy says it will scar if you scratch."

"I don' wan' mo' scars." Harry yawned.

"Daddy, can you put Dumbo on?" Hayden asked sweetly, wrapping his little arms around his brother's body. "Harry likes Dumbo, makes him happy."

Harry yawned widely. "I stay awake for you, Hayde."

"Close your eyes and sleep, Harry." Hayden demanded. "We play when we wake up, watch more Disney."

"Yay," Harry tried to sound enthusiastic but he was exhausted. "I sleepy."

"Yeah?"

"Very sleepy," Harry nodded and yawned again. "We watch your movie next, okay?"

"Okay," Hayden yawned and smiled. "I love you, Harry."

"I love you more, Hayden." Harry said, snuggling deeper and bringing his thumb to his mouth as his eyes closed.

Harry woke up then, unsure why because it hadn't been a bad dream at all, and he didn't think he was going to throw up yet either so really there was no reason to have woken up.

"You good?" A familiar voice asked from the doorway.

"Hayden?" Harry croaked, and hid brother came closer.

"Yeah, I woke up, got worried." Hayden said, pulling a desk chair over to sit near him. "How you feeling?"

"I'm o--not good." Harry moaned as his mouth filled with saliva. "'m gon' 'e 'ick."

"Bathroom?"

"Mhm,"

Hayden sighed and pulled him out of bed. "You got it bad, kid."

Harry practically flung himself at the toilet and hid his face, and Hayden sighed and knelt by him.

"Wan' Sa--"

"Don't talk yet," Hayden rolled his eyes a little. "Wait until you're not throwing up."

"Wan' Sa'ie." Harry croaked, starting to cry. "Sa'ie ma'es e'ry'in' be'er."

Harry dry heaved and leant back, too exhausted to hold himself up anymore.

"'M di'y, Hay'en." He slurred.

"Dizzy?" Hayden clarified, and his brother nodded weakly before slumping into his brother and putting all his weight into him.

"'M feel real sick, Hay'n." He slurred. "'M fee' 'ike 'm 'yin'."

"You're not dying, Harry." Hayden chuckled. "Trust me, you're too stubborn for that."

Harry laughed weakly. "'ou 'oul'n' 'et 'e?"

"No Harry, I wouldn't let you." Hayden sighed, swallowing hard. "I didn't let you before, did I?"

"'o," Harry shook his head weakly. "No 'ou 'i'n'."

"Mom?" Hayden called through the house. "Mom, have you seen Harry?"

There was no answer, and Hayden checked his phone to see a text from his mom telling him that she had gone to work.

"Harry, where are you?" Hayden yelled exasperatedly. "Harry, we're going to be late for school!"

Hayden knit his eyes and went into the bathroom, wondering if his brother was there. The door was open though, but Hayden went in anyway, a strange feeling in his gut. What he saw shocked him, a small knife on the sink, red with blood and the sink spattered with droplets. Underneath the knife was a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

"Oh fuck," Hayden breathed, hand shaking as he pulled the paper out.

'I'm sorry. It's all my fault. I love you, and I can't burden you anymore. -H.'

Hayden's fist crumpled the note in his palm as he tore towards their bedroom, praying that Harry was there. There were only so many places he could be.

"Harry?" He yelled. "Harry! Where are you?"

Hayden flung the window open and looked around, then glanced up. "Oh shit. Harry! Harry, don't do this."

If Harry heard him he gave no sign of it, and Hayden ran towards the ladder that led to the attic. It was a small attic, and didn't take long to cross and find the open window; it didn't take long to climb out onto the roof and slowly scoot towards Harry.

"Harry?" Hayden called softly, not going any closer than he already was. "Harry, can you hear me?"

"Yes," Harry said. His voice was monotonous, and his eyes were fixed on the ground, dark and glassy.

"Harry, I'm coming closer."

"No,"

"Harry, please. Let me come closer."

"I said no!" Harry yelled. "Go away, Hayden. I don't want you to see it, Hayden, go away."

Hayden scooted a couple inches closer. "Harry, you don't want to do this."

Harry held out his arm, watching the blood drip down, turning his skin scarlet and dripping off his fingers.

"It was my fault, Hayden." He said hoarsely.

"What was?"

"Jordan,"

"No it wasn't, Harry! Jordan died because we weren't there. We weren't there because Jordan didn't want us there. We couldn't do anything, we didn't know. We should have known, but you can't know something unless you're told. We weren't told. It isn't on any one of us. His death was not your fault."

"But it was, Hayden, don't you get it?" Harry turned his face to see him, revealing a blotchy face covered in tear stains. "I'm a burden to everyone. I'm work. I'm trouble."

"Why? Why do you think that?"

"I always have been, don't touch get it? Mom and dad didn't want you and Jordan because of me. They didn't want me, so they didn't want us. They left us because of me. People at the orphanage didn't want any of us because they didn't want me." Harry choked on his tears and coughed, running his bloody hand over his face. "After mom and daddy brought us home, I was work the first day. I was work a lot, always sick or in trouble at school. I kept them up nights because of those awful nightmares and they didn't sleep for days when I couldn't sleep. I was with them twenty-four-seven, always needing them. I was always sick with panic. Anxiety, PTSD, doctor's and therapy and medications. That's money. That's work."

"They did all that because they care about you, Harry."

"The nightmares are back, Hayden. Worse than before. I see Jordan everywhere. His body, the way he looked. The things he said. I should've put all the pieces together, everything was there. Everything was there, Hayden, I've gone through the same things and the same thoughts, I've gone through the same moments where you stare at a wall and see nothing and wish for death. I've been there. I am there. I should've seen it in Jordan." Harry was crying harder now, skin growing paler. "I can't keep doing this, Hayden. It's tearing me apart. My head is tearing me apart, Hayden, I can't eat, I can't sleep. He's always there. Mom and dad are always there. They're always there."

"Be smart, Harry. This isn't smart."

"But I'm not smart," Harry croaked. "I'm not smart or talented or . . . or . . . People don't love me. They don't need me and they don't want me."

Hayden scooted closer until he could reach out and touch Harry's arm. "Harry. Mom and dad need you. They've already lost one son, they don't need to lose another and especially not the same way."

"It's not the same way, he drowned, I'm not."

"Don't be a smart-ass with me, Harry, this isn't funny! This is stupid!" Hayden shouted. "You're not even eighteen yet, Harry, you've got a lot left to live for."

"Like what?"

"Like graduation, and a girlfriend, and a job, and a wife, and kids. Your kids' lives, and your life with your girl, and--"

"I get it." Harry snapped. "You don't seem to. This is . . . this is better for you all, you don't have to deal with me, my problems, my--"

"Don't you get it, dumb-ass? We want to deal with it, you're family! Mom and dad got us because of you, you know that? They got us because of you, they wanted us because of you. They've never complained about our problems once, not once!"

Harry didn't say anything, and his eyes glanced back towards Hayden.

"Come down with me, Harry, please." Hayden sighed. "I need you, Harry, I'm your brother and I love you and I need you. I want you, okay? Is there anybody out there closer than we are?"

"Well, I mean, maybe mom and dad, or Baby and--"

"Harry!"

"No, nobody." Harry admitted.

"You don't want to do this, Harry. You want . . . Relief, or . . . I don't know what you don't want this." Hayden as painfully aware of the shakiness in his body, but he was too busy to acknowledge how scared he was. "You don't want this, Harry. How long have you been up here?"

"Half hour?"

"Cut's not deep then?"

"Not deep enough. Eventually though, eventually I'd bleed out, in case I didn't have the courage to jump."

"That's not courage, Harry. That's weakness. That's taking a cowardly way out, because you don't have the strength to fight. Life's tough, kiddo, but you're tougher. You made it this far you can make it farther. Believe me, this isn't what you want." He saw Harry's hesitation, and repeated it slowly. "This isn't what you want."

"It's not what I want," Harry's voice was quivering. "It's not . . . Hayden, I'm scared."

"I know but I'm here. I'm not going anywhere, okay, I'm always here."

"Help me down," Harry croaked. "Help me down, I can't move, I'm scared."

Hayden took Harry's clammy hand and slowly started scooting towards the window. "Move with me, Harry, okay?"

"I c-can't." Harry sobbed.

"Yes you can, Harry."

"You believe that?"

"Yeah Harry I do, I believe in you, buddy, you know that. When have I ever lied to you or put you down?"

"Never,"

"Exactly," Hayden smiled. "Come on, I've got you."

Harry gave him a weak smile and gently nudged his arm. "Start moving. I don't want to be up here."

It took another few minutes to get the both of them safely off the roof and into the attic.

"Harry, I need to get you to the hospital, okay?" Hayden said as they got to the attic door. Harry was leaning heavily on him, clutching his arm to his chest. "I'm going to clean you up and call the ambulance, yeah?"

Harry nodded as they slowly went down the ladder. "'M not feelin' so hot."

"You dizzy?" Hayden asked, snatching his phone up and dialing. As soon as he was assured the ambulance was coming, he grabbed his brother and started walking again.

"Real dizzy," Harry mumbled as Hayden dragged him into the bathroom. "D' I look real bad?"

"Real bad," Hayden nodded, wetting a towel at the sink. When he turned back, Harry was frozen standing at the mirror, looking at the blood on his body. "Harry? Harry, are you okay?"

"I look like a monster," Harry croaked. His skin paled more, and it worried him. "Hayden, I don' feel so good."

"What, what's wrong?" Hayden asked frantically. "Are you gonna pass out? Harry, talk to me, please."

"Gonna be sick," Harry said, one hand moving to cover his mouth.

Hayden didn't doubt this, though he also didn't doubt that Harry was so weak he would pass out while doing so.

"Harry, calm down, you're freaking out. You almost--"

"I know what I almost fucking did, Hayden."

"My point is, you're all over the place. You're going to be feeling a lot of things, bro, okay? You're not feeling good because you're scared, it's trauma, and blood loss, and adrenaline--"

"There's blood all over my face. . ." Harry said shakily, making the mistake of looking back into the mirror.

Hayden grimaced as Harry bent over and vomited on their shoes.

"'m s'rry." Harry mumbled, straightening up and wiping his mouth on his arm.

"No, don't be, it's okay, you're fine, I'm fine, you're safe." Hayden was babbling a bit, but he didn't care and removed their shoes before throwing a towel on the floor.

"'m no' feelin' so goo'." Harry slurred, starting to sway.

"Okay, you're okay, let's sit you down." Hayden said, guiding him to the bathtub and setting him on the floor. "I don't know if this will sting or not, but I need to clean you up. I need to see how bad your arm is."

"Jus' hel' m'." Harry mumbled. "Keep me awake."

"You mean I can't bore you?"

"I know it's hard, but try." Harry cracked a small smile.

Hayden laughed and took the wet cloth, running it over Harry's face first to remove any trace of sweat and vomit, getting rid of the blood before rinsing it clean. Harry inhaled sharply when the cloth touched his arm, and Hayden quickly started talking about anything he could think of.

"Remember when we were kids, and we picked every marshmallow out of the Lucky Charms box and ate those for breakfast?"

"Yeah," Harry laughed. "Daddy's face when he went to get some. Priceless."

Hayden kept recalling childhood memories as he finished cleaning his brother's arm. The cut was deeper than he'd thought, and he knew Harry would be angry that he'd have a scar, but there wasn't another choice.

"Thanks," Harry mumbled when Hayden tossed the dirty cloth onto the floor and sat beside him. "For . . . You know . . . Saving me."

"I'll always be here for you, Harry." Hayden sighed, wrapping his arms around his twin. "You're my brother."

"I love you,"

"I love you too,"

Harry wrapped his arms around Hayden and leaned his head on Hayden's shoulder. "Promise we'll always be friends. Even though I fucked up."

"What?"

"Promise me, Hayde." Harry sighed. "You're my best friend."

"Yeah, I know. You're mine, always have been."

"Good," Harry smiled weakly. "And . . . And . . . Hayden, am I going to be okay?"

"Yeah, Harry, you'll be just fine."

The paramedics found them there five minutes later, snoring lightly but their arms still around each other.

"I'm really glad you saved me that day, Hayden." Harry cleared his throat. "I . . . I'm glad I'm still here."

"Me too," Hayden smiled. "Me too. You're an awesome person, Harry. You were put on the Earth for a reason."

"I feel really sick," Harry moaned.

"Gonna throw up?"

"I don't think there's anything left," Harry moaned, but he sat up and hovered over the bowl anyway.

Several gags and two heaves later, he was back shivering in his brother's arms. "'M hot, Hayde, real hot."

Hayden grabbed a washcloth and ran it under the faucet to clean off Harry's face and cool him off. "Let's get you back to bed, Harry."

"With Sa'ie? Sa'ie' 'ere, ri'?" Harry slurred, a dozy smile on his face as his brother stood him up and began to half-drag him to the bedroom.

"Yeah, Sadie's there."

"Good," Harry croaked, yawning as they entered the room. "Because guess what, Hayden?"

"What?" Hayden smiled as he pulled the blanket back over his half-asleep brother.

"'m i' love wi' 'er." Harry smiled, glancing over at her, still sound asleep with her hair spread over the pillow.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I 'ove 'er, an' 'm gon' mar' 'er on' 'ay."

"Yeah? You're gonna marry her?"

Harry nodded, falling into sleep, and Hayden chuckled to himself as Harry mumbled again, "I'm gonna marry her."